


Pour Me

by lookoutforburningbuildings



Category: Slender Man Mythos, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, can you tell I'm tired and bored?, i mean i guess, this is what I do at night write angst fanfics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 17:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutforburningbuildings/pseuds/lookoutforburningbuildings
Summary: Noah drinks himself to sleep.





	Pour Me

This would probably be the tenth drink of straight whiskey he had tonight. Noah wished he had someone around to make this scene a lot less depressing. But all the people he would share this with were dead, against him, or probably being possessed at the current moment.

He sighed as he took another swig of the drink, ignoring the feeling of burning in his throat. He really didn't care at this point. He was used to it, and he was done. He just wanted to forget. Maybe he could down some pills along with the drink, finally get a good nights rest for once.

Noah rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand, and scratched at the eczema scars near his ear. He looked over across the room to the hallway. He figured maybe if one of the assholes came, it would be more eventful and not so depressing. Then again, he only let one person see him drunk and they were being possessed.

Nobody appeared in the hall, and he didn't feel any presence in his house, or at least in the area around him. It was actually calm for once. It was concerning, and he felt like something bad would happen any minute now, but it didn't happen.

He sighed as he felt something rise in his throat. He kept it down the best he could, and managed to keep it out of his mouth. He figured maybe it would be best to go to sleep, but he wasn't in the mood to get up. He wasn't in the mood for anything.

He took another drink, and groaned as he felt his vision start to blur. He was tired. Tired of the problems, tired of the journal, tired of the demons, just tired in general. Tired in every sense of the word. He felt sick again and wanted to go and throw up, but he didn't want to get up either.

He laid his head down on the table, resting in between his crossed arms. He would deal with shit in the morning. Right now, he wanted to sleep. He let his eyes droop closed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

He woke up a couple hours later with a pounding headache. That's what he gets for sleeping on the table. Then he noticed that he wasn't on the table. He was in his bed, and it seemed like he fell asleep there, even though he knew for a fact that he didn't.

He looked around the room, and it was quite the same until he noticed a fortune cookie on the nightstand next to a glass of water. He sighed and fracked open the fortune cookie.

"Take better care of yourself. For your own sake."


End file.
